⇚ 26 ⇛

❚ ❙ Dock Eight ❙ ❚

The warehouse smelled like rust, river water, and blood.

Fresh blood.

I noticed it before anyone else.

Of course I did.

Rain hammered against the dockyard in violent sheets as we moved silently between shipping containers beneath the towering cranes of Dock Eight. The Thames crashed black against concrete nearby, waves slamming against the pillars hard enough to shake the metal walkways overhead.

London looked different here.

Not like the city Victor loved.

No warmth.
No laughter.
No glowing pub windows.

Just steel.
Dark water.
And men who sold human beings.

Frederick moved ahead of us through the rain with two of his men flanking the outer perimeter while Bernie disappeared and reappeared between shadows like something deeply unnatural.

Victor stayed close behind me.

Too close.

"You're breathing loudly," I muttered quietly.

"That's because unlike you, I'm experiencing human fear."

"Try quieter fear."

Victor glared at the back of my head.

"I regret falling in love with a psychopath."

My heartbeat betrayed me instantly.

Before I could respond-

Frederick raised one gloved hand.

Stop.

Everyone crouched immediately behind stacked containers while Adriana lifted binoculars toward the warehouse entrance.

The rain softened briefly.

And then-

chains.

Metal scraping concrete somewhere deep inside the building.

Victor heard it too.

His entire body stiffened beside me.

Adriana lowered the binoculars slowly.

"Four guards outside," she whispered. "At least six more moving inside."

Bernie adjusted his cuffs calmly.

"Amateurs."

Victor stared at him.

"You say things like a Bond villain."

"Thank you."

"That was not admiration."

Frederick ignored both of them.

His eyes remained fixed on the warehouse.

Focused.
Cold.

Mafia prince again.

Not my brother.

"Once we move in," he said quietly, "nobody improvises."

Adriana laughed under her breath.

"You brought Camille Beaumont to a hostage extraction and expected discipline?"

"That's fair," Bernie admitted.

I ignored them.

Victor leaned toward me quietly.

"You still have time to tell me this secretly involves police."

"It secretly involves violence."

He sighed deeply.

"I walked into that one."

Yes.

He did.

Headlights suddenly swept across the dockyard.

Everyone froze.

Three black SUVs rolled toward the warehouse entrance slowly before stopping beneath the loading cranes.

Then a fourth vehicle arrived behind them.

Smaller.
Armored.

Frederick's expression changed instantly.

Not fear.

Recognition.

"Jean-Claude."

The warehouse doors groaned open.

And there he was.

Jean-Claude Mercier stepped from the vehicle like rain itself moved aside for him.

Elegant black coat.
Silver hair slicked perfectly back.
Calm smile.

Monster dressed as a gentleman.

The kind of man who donated to charities while ordering executions over breakfast.

And beside him-

Valerie.

My stomach turned cold instantly.

Blonde hair untouched by weather.
Red lipstick.
Black gloves.

Beautiful snake.

Victor glanced at me immediately.

"You okay?"

"No."

Valerie's eyes swept calmly across the dockyard.

Then stopped directly on our hiding place.

Not searching.

Knowing.

She smiled slowly.

Adriana lowered the binoculars.

"Oh, I absolutely hate her."

Jean-Claude's men began unloading crates from the vehicles.

Victor leaned slightly forward beside me.

Weapons.

Military-grade rifles.
Ammunition.
Explosives.

Enough firepower to turn parts of London into funerals.

Victor swore softly beneath his breath.

Then-

another sound.

Small.

Fragile.

Crying.

Not loud.
Not dramatic.

The exhausted crying of people who had already learned nobody was coming.

Every muscle in Victor's body tightened instantly beside me.

The crying came again.

From inside the warehouse.

Jean-Claude heard it too.

And smiled.

"You see?" he said conversationally to Valerie. "Desperation always sounds the same eventually."

My vision narrowed instantly.

Frederick's expression darkened beside me.

"You hear that?" Victor whispered.

"Yes."

"We move now."

Frederick gave a single nod.

Then everything exploded into motion.

-

Bernie reached the first guard before the man even understood someone stood behind him.

One second alive.

Next second unconscious against wet pavement.

Victor stared briefly.

"...How?"

Bernie smiled pleasantly.

"Posture."

Adriana shot the second guard through the knee before he could raise his weapon.

The man screamed.

Victor physically flinched.

"Jesus Christ."

"He's alive," Adriana replied calmly. "Probably."

Frederick's men secured the outer dock entrances immediately while Frederick himself kicked open the side warehouse door hard enough to crack metal hinges.

Inside-

chaos.

Gunfire erupted instantly.

Men shouting.
Metal clanging.
Crates exploding apart beneath bullets.

I moved automatically.

One man rushed me from the left.

Too slow.

I slammed him face-first into a support beam before turning and driving my elbow into another attacker's throat hard enough to collapse him instantly.

A third reached for his weapon.

I shot him before he cleared the holster.

Across the warehouse, Victor ducked behind shipping crates beside Adriana while Frederick tore through two men near the loading platform with horrifying efficiency.

Not messy violence.

Professional violence.

The kind taught over years.

Victor saw it.

His face paled slightly.

Good.

He should understand what my family truly was.

A scream suddenly cut through the warehouse again.

Female.

Terrified.

Victor turned instantly toward the sound.

"The containers."

He moved before anyone could stop him.

Idiot.

Beautiful idiot.

I followed immediately.

Locked shipping containers lined the far side of the warehouse.

One rattled violently from inside.

Victor reached it first.

"Help me."

Together we forced the rusted doors open.

And suddenly-

faces.

Women.
Girls.
Terrified eyes blinking against sudden light.

One girl looked no older than Allison.

Another instinctively covered her face like she expected to be hit.

A third clutched a younger girl against her chest protectively.

Victor froze beside me.

Completely froze.

One of the girls whispered something shakily in Albanian.

Lira.

No.

Not Lira.

But someone like her.

Someone Victor could have failed if tonight went differently.

One girl recoiled violently when Frederick approached with his weapon visible.

Victor immediately stepped in front of her.

"It's okay," he said softly. "You're safe."

The girl didn't believe him.

I understood why.

Safe was temporary.

But Victor kept speaking anyway.

Gentle.
Patient.

Like kindness itself could physically shield people.

Behind us-

slow applause echoed through the warehouse.

Jean-Claude.

He stood above us now on the upper metal catwalk overlooking the warehouse floor.

Valerie beside him.

Untouched by chaos.

Like violence bored them.

"Well," Jean-Claude drawled smoothly, "this is disappointingly emotional."

Victor moved instinctively in front of the girls.

Protective.

Immediate.

No hesitation.

Jean-Claude noticed.

"How noble," he murmured.

"Go to hell," Victor replied coldly.

Interesting.

No fear.

Valerie laughed softly beside Jean-Claude.

"He really is stupidly brave."

I stepped slightly in front of Victor.

"No," I said quietly. "He's just better than both of you."

Jean-Claude's eyes shifted toward me.

And for the first time-

his smile disappeared.

"You were always André's greatest mistake."

I smiled slowly.

"And yet here I am."

"You wear his name while hiding in noodle shops pretending to be ordinary."

"You traffic children while pretending to be civilized. We all cope differently."

Frederick moved beside me instantly.

Shoulder to shoulder.

Family.

Jean-Claude noticed immediately.

Interesting.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

"There was a time," he said calmly, "when the Beaumont family understood strength."

Frederick's voice turned cold.

"André understood loyalty."

"André became sentimental," Jean-Claude snapped. "Weak men create weak empires."

"Funny," I replied softly. "Because you seem obsessed with him for a dead man."

Valerie's eyes flicked toward me sharply.

Ah.

There it was.

Emotion.

She descended the metal stairs slowly while gunfire echoed deeper in the warehouse.

Calm.
Elegant.
Terrifying.

"You know what your problem is, Camille?" she asked softly.

"I have several."

"You really never saw it."

I blinked.

"Saw what?"

Valerie laughed once.

Bitter.
Ugly beneath all that polish.

"God. That almost makes it worse."

Frederick went very still beside me.

Too still.

Victor noticed.

Of course he noticed.

Valerie's smile trembled at the edges, not from fear, but fury.

"You were always in the room with us," she said. "Even when you weren't there."

My stomach turned.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Don't," Frederick said quietly.

Not to me.

To Valerie.

His voice had changed completely.

Lower.
Rougher.
Terrified.

Valerie looked almost delighted.

"Oh, now you want me silent?"

"Valerie," Frederick warned.

She ignored him.

"You think he married me because he loved me?" she asked, eyes locked on mine. "No, Camille. He married me because wanting you was impossible."

The warehouse seemed to tilt.

For one second, all the gunfire and shouting became distant.

Muffled.

Wrong.

I looked at Frederick.

He did not speak.

Did not deny it fast enough.

My chest tightened violently.

"No," I said.

The word came out flat.

Certain.

Because it was absurd.

Sick.

Impossible.

"He's my brother."

Valerie smiled.

"Adopted."

"Shut up."

"There it is," she whispered. "You really didn't know."

Frederick's face had gone pale beneath the blood and rain.

Victor stood very still beside me.

Too still.

I felt him understanding before I did.

Not fully.

But enough.

Enough to realize why Frederick's eyes had always sharpened whenever Victor touched me.

Enough to realize why Frederick's protectiveness felt like grief wearing a family name.

Enough to realize something inside our house had been wrong long before I ran.

My breathing changed.

"No," I repeated.

This time it sounded less certain.

Valerie looked at Frederick with open hatred now.

"I slept beside a man who said your name in his sleep. Do you know what that does to a woman?"

"Enough," Frederick said, voice deadly.

"No." Valerie's eyes glittered. "Let her hear it. Let her understand what she ruined without even trying."

"I ruined nothing," I snapped.

"You ruined everything by existing."

The words landed sharp and poisonous.

Victor stepped slightly closer to me.

Not touching.

But there.

Frederick noticed.

Valerie noticed too.

Her expression twisted.

"And now look," she whispered. "You finally found someone who looks at you the way Frederick did, only this one is stupid enough to let you know."

Victor's jaw tightened.

"Don't speak to her like that."

Valerie laughed softly.

"Oh, lawyer. You have no idea how long she has been loved by men who should know better."

Something inside Frederick snapped.

He moved forward.

Fast.

Too fast.

Jean-Claude gave the smallest nod from above.

Gunfire erupted overhead.

Sniper.

Metal exploded beside my head instantly.

"MOVE!" Frederick roared.

Everything collapsed into chaos.

Jean-Claude's men flooded from side entrances.

Too many.

Far too many.

Trap.

Frederick realized it instantly.

"So predictable," Jean-Claude sighed above us.

Victor immediately turned back toward the girls inside the container.

"We can't leave them!"

"Victor!" I shouted.

"No!"

He grabbed the chain restraints still bolted inside the container walls.

One of Frederick's men yelled:
"We need to retreat!"

Victor ignored him completely.

A terrified girl clung to his sleeve sobbing.

And Frederick-

Frederick saw it.

Saw Victor refusing escape because strangers still needed help.

Something shifted behind my brother's eyes then.

Respect.

Real respect.

Frederick moved instantly toward the container instead.

"Get them moving," he barked sharply to his men.

Victor looked stunned briefly.

Then another shot rang out.

Closer.

Adriana disappeared into shadows like smoke while Bernie fired toward the catwalk calmly and efficiently beside us.

Jean-Claude began retreating.

Coward.

Valerie lingered.

Watching me.

Watching Victor.

Then slowly-

she lifted her gun.

Toward Victor.

Everything slowed.

I saw:

* Victor turning too late,
* Valerie's finger tightening,
* Frederick shouting something,
* rain blowing through broken windows,
* the girls screaming-

And I moved.

Not consciously.

Not heroically.

Instinct.

The gunshot cracked through the warehouse.

Pain exploded through my shoulder hard enough to spin me sideways into Victor.

For one strange second-

nothing hurt.

Then warmth spread down my arm.

Blood.

So much blood.

Victor caught me before I hit the concrete.

His face went white instantly.

"No."

The word sounded broken.

Actually broken.

I blinked up at him slowly.

Interesting.

He looked terrified.

Not scared.

Terrified.

Behind us-

Frederick lost control.

Not emotionally.

Professionally.

Worse.

He emptied half a magazine toward the upper platform with terrifying precision while barking orders violently in French.

One of Jean-Claude's men went over the railing.

Another collapsed beside the stairs.

Bernie looked toward Frederick once.

And for the first time all night-

Bernie looked alarmed.

Valerie vanished into the chaos beside Jean-Claude.

Cowards.

Victor pressed both shaking hands desperately against my shoulder wound.

Blood soaked through his fingers immediately.

Warm.
Bright.
Everywhere.

"Camille stay with me-"

"I'm fine."

"You are bleeding everywhere!"

"Minor inconvenience."

"That is NOT a minor inconvenience!"

His voice cracked.

The girls from the container watched with huge frightened eyes while Frederick's men moved them quickly toward the exits.

One girl began crying harder at the sight of blood.

Victor noticed immediately despite everything.

"Hey," he said shakily toward her. "Don't look, okay? Keep moving."

Still protecting people.

Even now.

God.

Frederick dropped beside us seconds later breathing hard, blood splattered across his jaw and collar.

His eyes landed on my wound.

And for the first time since Stella died-

I saw genuine fear in my brother's face.

Not mafia fear.

Family fear.

"Camille."

Victor looked up at him furiously.

"HELP HER."

Frederick snapped back into motion instantly.

"Pressure higher," he ordered sharply.

Victor obeyed immediately.

No arguing now.

No rivalry.

Just two men covered in my blood trying to keep me alive.

Police sirens screamed faintly somewhere beyond the docks.

Too early.

Someone tipped them off.

Adriana emerged from the shadows reloading calmly.

"Jean-Claude escaped."

"Valerie too," I muttered weakly.

Victor looked seconds away from collapse.

Rain soaked through his clothes.
Blood covered his hands.
His breathing shook violently.

I touched his wrist gently.

His eyes snapped back to mine instantly.

"You protected them," I whispered.

Victor's expression shattered slightly.

Behind him, the girls were being loaded carefully into vehicles beneath flashing lights.

Alive.

Safe.

Victor swallowed hard.

Then looked back at me like I was the one thing he could not afford to lose.

And somehow-

that hurt worse than the bullet.